


Read to Me

by MezMoriah



Series: Tales of Nabooru [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MezMoriah/pseuds/MezMoriah
Summary: Despite the volatility of their relationship, Nabooru seeks out Ganondorf for much missed quality time.





	Read to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all didn't expect these to really follow any order. I wrote this a few years ago and it's a personal fave, so I couldn't resist going on ahead and sharing it.

Ganondorf had returned several hours ago, before the sun had even sunk beneath the horizon. Pride and the memory of their last spat before he left for one of his longer trips to Hyrule Castle still fresh on Nabooru’s mind prevented her from immediately greeting the king as he arrived at the fortress. Until that quarrel, she had planned to go with him, perhaps offer him better company than those stuffed shirt nobles. But, he ruined that notion quickly, a day before leaving, too. 

That day she rose with the sun and met him at the stables as she always did to see him off. The tension palpable, both of their bodies stiffened like a couple of animals ready to fend off a predator should the need arise. They managed to keep their farewell civil, though the couple remained silent until they reached the entrance to the valley. Once out of the guards’ line of sight, she slipped my foot into the stirrup on top of his, hoisted herself up, and planted a quick peck on his cheek before making him promise to come back safe. 

Though grudgingly, he did. She even saw a tiny smile crack the too serious expression he donned more often than not these days. 

And yet, she still couldn’t help the clenching of her jaw, watching from the sanctuary of the meeting room window, as he rode his black stallion back up to the fortress two weeks later. Several of the guards had abandoned their posts to greet and escort him to the stables, circling around him and beaming at their king. Ganondorf even seemed to be in good spirits, smiling and chatting with them, not a single qualm with the questions they pelted him with. 

Though this should have alleviated some of her fears, Nabooru couldn’t convince herself that another shouting match would not come within hours of the two making contact. As with many of their arguments, there always seemed to be a calm before the storm. Like a mirage of an oasis as you’re dying of thirst before the reality of barrenness becomes apparent. 

Thus, she avoided Ganondorf for the rest of the afternoon, busying herself with even the most menial task she could think of. She did not return to her room until late evening after grabbing a quick dinner on the fly when she was sure he would not be around the meal hall. An insurmountable task, especially without raising suspicion. 

She hummed a tune softly to myself as she began to remove her jewelry, toeing off her shoes as I padded over to the vanity mirror across from her bed. She slipped the ruby from her hair with a relieved sigh, crimson hair spilling over her shoulders as I picked up her brush. She only managed to glide it through the length few times before stopping short, bristles halfway down and her fingers gripping the ends. 

After all the evasion and fear of either of them finding a reason to argue, she hadmissed the infuriating idiot. 

Setting the brush down, she groaned at her reflection and shook her head as if the image in the mirror would talk her out of what I was about to do. 

“You’re a masochist, Nabooru…I hope you know that.” 

Despite the self-scolding, she pushed herself up from the vanity and headed back out into the hallway. Rising in rank to Second in Command meant a new room, one closer to the king’s quarters in case anything should go awry. Just a right turn and a quick jaunt down a torch-lit hall brought her to her destination: an ornate, red door with gold embellishments surrounding their people’s symbol. 

A familiar sight, as she often found herself in his room for one reason or another; sometimes business, other times pleasure. But recent visits always left her feeling a little colder than they used to. Hesitant to enter. The sensation was always strange as she stood in front of it these days, wringing her hands and holding her breath like a little girl, gathering up the courage to ask her instructor for permission to train with the older girls. And the ache in her chest…that desire for the warmth and comfort the couple used to enjoy with each other. 

Before she could convince herself to turn back, she raised her fist to knock, but paused before knuckle struck wood. Rolling her eyes at her own stupidity, Nabooru lowered her fist to the knob instead, gripping it too tightly and turning it, slowly pushing the heavy wood forward. 

The sweet scent of burning incense mixed with the smell of the burning torches on the wall innediately assaulted her nostrils. The crackle of fire and the low lighting soothed her anxiety a touch. She took a few seconds to admire how they made the shadows of the decorations and fixtures around the room dance in broken steps. It reminded her of graffiti she saw in the Market years ago: wild looking figures danced around their burning victim. She could not tell whether the garish figures were meant to be humans or monsters. 

At first, she deemed the room empty, a mixture of relief and disappointment causing her shoulders to slump. Though, upon scanning the room, she found the man in question at the other side of his large quarters, stretched out on one of his couched, one made specially for him considering his substantial size (though, somehow, it still looked incredibly small beneath him). In place of the black armor he had sported upon arriving home, he now donned a simple pair of pants similar to my own, only black in color. He held a book in one hand, expression calm as he scanned the pages, his other hand resting behind his head for extra support. 

He did not even twitch as the mechanisms of the door clicked softly as Nabooru closed it behind her; he merely turned to the next page in his book, shifting his left leg off the couch, foot planted on the rug below him. She knew better; he was fully aware someone had entered his room and, because she hadn’t knocked, he knew very well it was her. 

“Just got back and you’re already working?” 

“This is hardly working, Nabooru,” he remarked, finally tearing his amber eyes from his book to watch her cross the room. The light of the torches flickered in his irises, mesmerizing the woman. “I’m relaxing after a long week and a half of negotiations. Not to mention a long, boring ride back here.” 

She snorted softly at the rather pointed glare he shot her. As much as she wanted to inform him that it was his own fault she decided not to join him, she bit my tongue; he deserved a night of relaxation and she did not wish to ruin that for him (or herself) by inciting an argument. Plus, she grew tired of the fighting, the nonstop bickering. She knew lovers fought, but surely not as often as they seemed to lately… 

Nabooru paused at the nearby bookshelf and hummed to herself, gliding her fingers along leather spines of volumes on any topic from history of Hyrule’s races to Gerudo fighting styles through the ages. She selected one at random, hardly concerned with the contents, and turned to face him. “Mind if I join you?” 

Instead of a verbal answer, he merely shifted so that his back rested more fully against the arm of the couch, beckoning her over with a lazy wave of his free hand. Smiling gently, she strode over to him with her book selection and carefully rested between his legs, reclining so her back rested against his torso, head on his chest. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice surprisingly genuine as he lifted his book to eye level once more. 

She simply nodded in response, cracking her own hefty volume of…a quick glance at the cover informed her she had made chosen a book about potions and their properties. Nothing she even remotely cared about, her eyes glazing over just reading a single sentence. 

Boring subject matter aside, her focus suffered as his fingers danced absently along her bare side, from the top of her hip to just beneath her ribcage. She could not stop the pleased sigh that passed her lips as that simple touch disarmed her, any fears or trepidations dissolving. Her eyes slipped closed as she indulged in his warmth, soothed by the sound of his steady breathing and heart beat pumping next to her head. 

“Potions too boring for you? Does seem like an odd choice…” 

“Mm?” Nabooru blinked rapidly and tilted her head back. Her eyes met his, eyebrows furrowing in confusion; surely she hadn’t fallen asleep! Caught in her act anyway, she set the potions book aside. “Did I fall asleep?” 

“No, but you were about to.” His gaze had returned to his own book, though his hand gravitated upward, resting just above the armband she only removed when bathing. His fingers occasionally stretched to trace the intricate metalwork and inlaid gem (his own design), dipping in between gold to caress tan flesh. Each few seconds of contact sent a tingling sensation through her body, and part of her swore he used magic. Though, deep down, she knew she just craved the contact. The intimacy. Something other than arguing. 

Her eyes shifted to the book in his hand–an attempt to tear her focus away from such thoughts. The characters on the page were Hylian, the pages torn at the edges and discolored from age and use. As she skimmed through the page he was on, she deemed that it discussed the myths and history of Hyrule. She wasn’t surprised, but her heart still sank, mind flashing back to the disputes revolving around this very topic. The yelling. Spurned words spewed that she, at least, didn’t mean. Desperately holding back tears and stubbornly wiping them away when out of sight. The letters on the page seemed to taunt her in that moment, reminding her how tenuous their relationship had become because of this…this obsession. She thought to grab the book and tear those yellowing pages from their binding in that moment, as if that would snap Ganondorf back to his senses, release him from the spell he was under. To see how potentially dangerous his tentative plan could be. 

Instead, Nabooru rested her head against his chest again, releasing a slow breath through her nose as he turned the page. His hand did not return to her arm, however, favoring her hair draped over her shoulder instead. His fingers combed through the locks, occasionally twisting stands about his fingers. 

She relaxed once more. He must have sensed her discomfort, something the two had a knack for, at least with each other. Not that they paid it much mind these days, so he surprised her with the gesture, as he knew it was one that rarely failed to calm her. Though, judging how his eyes never left the pages of his book, the action most likely only served as a way to keep his free hand occupied, one of his preferences as he read, wrote, or merely as he lost himself in thought. 

Still…she convinced myself it was the former. 

Nabooru lifted herself up and sat on his thigh instead, draping my legs across his lap, my bare feet hanging over the side. It wasn’t until moments like these she really noticed the difference in their size. Tall as she was, he still had a head and a half on her in height. Not to mention his muscular build which aided his ability to dwarf anyone who came near him. But, it never bothered her…except occasionally in sparring sessions. 

“Will you read to me?” Nabooru tilted her head back to look at him. 

“What?” 

“Read the book to me? Out loud?” 

His expression flashed from annoyance to amusement as he met her gaze. “Have you not been practicing reading Hylian? You’re my Second in Command, Nabooru. I can’t have you being all brawn and no brain.” He prodded her forehead with a light chuckle, the first sincere one she had heard in a long time, unmarred by malice. 

She swatted his hand away, lower lip poking out. “I can read and speak Hylian just fine and you know it. Besides, I know how much you love hearing your own voice.” 

He laughed again, draping his arm around her waist hand resting on my thigh. “Very well. I’ll indulge you this time.” 

Smiling at her small victory, she laid my head on his shoulder. He must have just bathed because she could smell the fresh scent of his favorite soap emanating from his skin; a spicy aroma but with a hint of freshness akin to the smell in Hyrule Field after a spring rain. 

He began to read, his deep voice lowered to a soothing volume. His smooth tone never faltered over the Hylian words, as if it were his first language. Always a perfectionist, it did not surprise her; he had appearances to keep up to avoid the judgmental gazes of the more pompous Hylian nobles. 

Though she preferred listening to their own language, she still found solace in his voice as he unfolded the story of the Triforce and iterated the author’s theories about it. The content did not interest her, however, so much as the voice relating it. The warmth currently in his tone was a rarity anymore as he preferred to adopt a colder, more indifferent timbre when dealing with her. Thus, she reveled in it for now. Lost herself in it. 

Naboor saw his eyes flick over to her–though it did not interrupt his reading–as she brushed her fingertips along his chest, tracing faded scars along the expanse of bare flesh. The fingers of her other hand walked along his back, shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Up the back of his neck and into his hair. The ends were still damp from his bath. 

She allowed her eyes to shift to his face. She always admired his features, sharp and defined. The lids over his eyes were half closed over amber irises as he followed the words on the pages. His habit for precision showed once more in the perfect grooming of his sideburns, hair, and eyebrows. Her gaze then drifted to his lips, lingering there for several seconds, suddenly fascinated with how they formed each word with flawless precision. 

“Hey.” 

The first time his voice broke off since he started reading aloud. He turned his head, annoyance flashing across those handsome features. She couldn’t help the cheeky smirk that curled her lips; pushing his buttons was a bit of a guilty pleasure. 

Before he could reprimand her for interrupting, Nabooru leaned forward, gently pressing her lips to his, hands on either side of his face. When she pulled away and opened her eyes, she was relieved to see that a small smile had replaced the exasperated grimace on Ganondorf’s face. 

“I missed you,” she breathed, resting my forehead against his. 

He didn’t respond, not with words. She felt him shift beneath me, hand holding the book dropping off the side of the couch as he reconnected their lips. She heard his book drop to the floor with a dull thump, muscular arms circling around her frame. 

Smiling against his lips, she readjusted her position, placing her knees on either side of his hips. She looped her arms over his shoulders, one hand weaving into his hair and urging his head forward to deepen their kiss. His hands slid up the back of her top as he forced my body flush against his. 

Nabooru opened my mouth to protest when his lips left her, but the disgruntled huff turned to a delighted moan as he kissed the corner of her lips, along her jawline to her chin. She tilted her head back, baring her throat to him which he eagerly latched on to. A breathy sigh escaped her throat, the alternating kisses, bites, and licks down the length of her neck sending a shiver down her spine as well as igniting the familiar heat of passion in my veins. 

“Will you be staying here tonight, my love?” She shuddered as his breath tickled the sensitive skin dampened with a thin strip of saliva from his licks. She could feel him smirking as he nipped and kissed along her collarbone. She could have punched him for being so smug. 

Instead, Nabooru returned her head to its normal position, smiling coyly at him. “If that is what my king wishes,” she purred, letting her fingers trace his jawline. She nipped at his lower lip. “I only want you to be happy, love.” 

Grinning, she slipped off his lap. However, she only managed two steps toward the bed before Ganondorf’s arm snaked around her waist, yanking me back into his body. She yelped and laughed as he easily hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her the rest of the way to the bed. 

Nabooru squeaked as I was unceremoniously dumped onto the bed and immediately pinned beneath Ganondorf. He held her hands above her head, lacing his fingers with hers. “That wasn’t fair, you know,” she said, pretending to struggle beneath him. “Could have given me a little more warning.” 

“Now, where would be the fun in that?” he responded, chuckling at her half-hearted struggle. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to escape me.” 

Nabooru rolled her eyes with a grin, lifting her head from the pillow to peck his lips. The chaste gesture earned her a more passionate kiss, a content moan sounding in her throat as she arched her back up toward him. 

Ganondorf parted his lips from hers, capturing her gaze with little effort. He released one of her hands in favor of caressing her cheek with his thumb. “I love you, Nabooru.” 

She beamed upon hearing those words, her heart thudding so hard against her rib cage she was sure he could hear it. She never thought She would hear him utter those words to her again. 

“I love you, too, Ganondorf. Always will.”


End file.
